


Prompt 18: Who Are You Again?

by irrationalgame



Series: Thommy Comfortween Prompts [18]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Fade to black sex, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27102928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrationalgame/pseuds/irrationalgame
Summary: Comfortween prompts from https://hurtcomfortex.dreamwidth.org/22946.html18. Who are you again?Head injury, amnesia, short term memory loss.Thomas can’t remember Jimmy, Jimmy gets creative with the truth about their relationship.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent
Series: Thommy Comfortween Prompts [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949317
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	Prompt 18: Who Are You Again?

**Author's Note:**

> I’m behind a day 😬 Sunday was a nightmare with the baby and I just couldn’t get it done. Also it somehow became over 3000 words so idk man, I guess I cannot write short drabbles to save my life.
> 
> Apologies for errors - no beta and I’m working on very little sleep!

Thomas was still unconscious.

Clarkson had said he could wake up at any time but it seemed Thomas hadn’t received the message. The white bandages around his head had finally stopped turning red, which was good, and his temperature, heartbeat, blood pressure - they were all good too. By rights he should be awake and complaining about being fussed over, but he wasn’t.

He was _still_ unconscious.

The guilt and anxiety that had taken root in Jimmy’s stomach buried themselves deeper, bedding down for the long haul.

It had been a very stupid accident and maybe, possibly, it was a tiny bit Jimmy’s fault.

Because if Thomas wasn’t so head-over-heels in love with Jimmy then he wouldn’t have practically thrown himself between Jimmy and the falling bookcase, and it would be the footman lying on the hospital bed looking every bit like a marble statue, instead of the under-butler.

Jimmy drummed his fingers on his lap. He hated waiting for anything - not out of impatience, but rather because he found himself becoming more and more anxious until he was a ball of nervous energy. To Jimmy, anxiety was like carrying around a pocket full of gunpowder and pebbles - he was liable to explode at the smallest disturbance.

“What’s happening?” Thomas said and Jimmy near jumped out of his skin. The under-butler’s was awake but he looked dazed, like when someone was prematurely awoken from a deep sleep. His gaze fell on Jimmy and the footman knew something was wrong immediately - there was an impassivity in Thomas’s eyes that had never been there before. “Where am I?”

“You had an accident Thomas,” Jimmy said and the under-butler stared at him with those dispassionate eyes, “you’re in the hospital.”

“Oh,” he said, his hand coming up to touch the bandage on his head. “Do you work here?”

“I - what?” Jimmy stuttered. “It’s me, Jimmy.”

Thomas’s face was horrifyingly blank.

“We work together at the Abbey. He have for years now. We’re - I mean you’re me - me best friend,” Jimmy said, then; “Bloody hell, I better get Clarkson.”

Clarkson came and administered a series of tests - Thomas had recognised the doctor immediately, which just made Jimmy feel even worse. He also knew the year, but was unsure of the date. He remembered his job and his other colleagues, and who the King and Prime Minister were. It seemed, to Jimmy’s dismay, he was the only person Thomas had forgotten.

“It’s not uncommon after a head injury to be a little muddled,” Clarkson said, “but the effects are almost always temporary.”

“How temporary?” Jimmy asked. He could feel Thomas surveying him with those sharp eyes.

Clarkson sighed; “The brain is a complicated thing James. It’s hard to say but Thomas should be right as rain in six to nine months maximum.”

All the blood left Jimmy’s face and he had to sit down. “Nine - nine months?”

“It might well be sooner,” Clarkson replied. “And as soon as I’m sure Thomas is well enough I’ll recommend he returns to the Abbey. Being in his own room surrounded by the people he knows might help.”

“I’d like to go now,” Thomas interrupted.

“I can’t force you to stay Thomas,” Clarkson said, “but I don’t recommend it. You need someone to watch over you.”

“I can do that,” Jimmy chimed in.

“That won’t be necessary,” Thomas shook his head.

And so Thomas went against Clarkson’s wishes and discharged himself. Jimmy used the hospital phone to call the Abbey - Mrs Hughes said they’d send a car down for them, so they waited outside the hospital, on an old bench.

“Just what I need,” Thomas lit a cigarette - he hadn’t forgotten his addiction, “a ride with Branson.”

“Um,” Jimmy started, “Branson’s not the chauffeur any more.”

Thomas blinked. “Of course. He and Lady Sybil...oh. Lady Sybil.”

“You’d forgotten?”

“I suppose I had,” he gave Jimmy a rueful look, “I’m sorry I don’t remember you. You’d think I would, what with you...” he trailed off. “Are we very close?”

“Intimately,” Jimmy stated.

“And how long have we been...close?”

Jimmy thought back to when their friendship had really started. “Probably goin’ on two years now.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow, “I can’t believe I can’t remember.”

“I thought I’d made a lasting impression on you,” Jimmy said, unable to hide his disappointment.

“So you’re...” Thomas hesitated, “...I mean are we?”

Oh. _Oh_.

Thomas thought they were close like _that_. Like... _sweethearts_. Of course, it wasn’t an unreasonable thing to assume when Jimmy had just gone on about how bleedin’ _intimate_ they were. Well, better not let Thomas get the wrong idea. He should nip it in the bud now.

“Yes,” Jimmy said, “we are.”

 _Shite_.

Thomas raised his eyebrows.

“I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, seeing as you can’t even remember me,” Jimmy bluffed.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas said. He reached out to touch Jimmy and hesitated for a moment before letting his hand rest lightly on Jimmy’s elbow. “It must hurt, but I’m not doing it on purpose. And I’m sure I’ll remember. Don’t think anyone could forget _you_ for long.”

Jimmy gave a wan smile; Thomas openly flirting with him was nice, even in their current circumstances. Normally he’d never be so bold - he was afraid of crossing the line and making Jimmy uncomfortable. Jimmy didn’t think it would be possible for Thomas to make him uncomfortable anymore.

The car arrived so they sat in the back together, an awkward silence between them. Everyone was waiting for Thomas to arrive back at the Abbey, even his Lordship himself, so it was a good thirty minutes before Jimmy finally corralled Thomas back up to his room to rest.

Thomas smiled as Jimmy helped him up the staff staircase and said; “I’m sure I can manage.”

“Yes, well,” Jimmy shook his head, “I’d feel badly if you fell down the stairs or something. Seeing as you already got hurt because of me.”

“My head?” Thomas frowned, “Clarkson said a bookcase fell on me.”

“It did, but it would’ve fallen on _me_ if you hadn’t pushed me out of the way.”

Thomas paused halfway up the staircase and said; “Well, it must be love if I’m letting bookcases fall on my head.” And he gave Jimmy the most wonderful, sincere smile.

Jimmy’s face went red from the tip of his nose to the top of his ears. He coughed; “Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

Thomas quirked an eyebrow and Jimmy chose to ignore the insinuation.

Once Thomas was settled in his room he said; “Can we talk for a bit? I want to get to know you?”

Jimmy faltered - he didn’t enjoy talking about himself but, well, he’d been given an opportunity here to start over, to have a second chance without their history hanging over them and he wanted to get it right. Then when Thomas eventually got his memory back it would be easy - he’d know how Jimmy really felt. So he took a seat and talked.

It was easier than he thought - Thomas was a good listener and he was truly interested. And Jimmy already knew he could trust Thomas so he wasn’t afraid to open up. It was only when Thomas started to politely disguise yawns behind his hand that Jimmy realised the time - they’d been chatting for hours.

“It’s late,” Jimmy said, “I should let you rest.” He made to leave but was torn - should he kiss Thomas goodnight? It would be natural to do so, if they were really sweethearts, but Thomas was all amnesia-y and Jimmy didn’t want to take advantage.

He needed have worried because Thomas smiled and said; “Don’t a get a kiss goodnight?”

Jimmy laid a chaste kiss on Thomas’s cheek. “Goodnight,” he said, and retired to his own room.

And so the charade continued over the next few days - Jimmy pretending to be Thomas’s sweetheart and not thinking too much about _why_ he wanted to, and Thomas blithely carrying on with no idea he’d been duped into a relationship. They spent all their free time talking and smoking and playing cards - which was much like before. But now they kissed and sat pressed together in Thomas’s bed and _held hands_.

And Jimmy sort of hoped Thomas’s amnesia would persist for just a _bit_ longer.

For some reason Thomas had neglected to tell everyone else about the Jimmy-shaped gap in his memory. When Jimmy had questioned him about it the under-butler shrugged and said; “Don’t think it’s anyone’s business but ours.”

“You seem happier,” Anna said to Thomas over breakfast one morning, “ever since your accident.”

“Well,” Thomas replied, buttering his toast, “I may have lost a few things but I found some too.” He gave Jimmy an affectionate look.

“Well that’s cryptic,” Anna smiled, “but I’m glad you’re feeling alright.”

“Never better.”

Thomas had been given a full week off by His Lordship and Jimmy had been allowed to stay on light duties so he could watch over the under-butler’s recovery. Carson hadn’t liked either of those developments and had looked at Jimmy and Thomas with suspicion, as if it were all some big scheme to avoid work for a bit, but had been powerless to say anything against the will of his master.

So Thomas had spent three days recuperating, until he’d finally become bored of his room and begged Jimmy to go for a stroll with him.

It was a lovely spring afternoon, perfect for a walk being neither too hot nor cold, so the two men set out just after lunch and wandered together through the grounds of the Abbey and into the countryside proper. They found a fallow field, green with uncut grass and dotted with wildflowers, and sat down in the shade of the hedgerow.

“Y’know it were almost worth getting a head injury just to have a week off work,” Thomas smiled. He’d smiled more this week than Jimmy thought he’d ever seen, which made him wonder if perhaps he was usually the cause of Thomas’s sadness.

“Easy for you to say - you didn’t have to sit by your bedside when you were unconscious, wondering if you’d ever open your eyes again or if you’d left me forever,” Jimmy replied.

Thomas’s mouth opened and then snapped shut. “Sorry,” he finally managed, “I didn’t think of that. It must’ve been unpleasant.”

Jimmy nodded. “It’s not the first time I’ve felt like that - full of dread and anxiety. When we first met we - we had a bit of a falling out and then I got sloshed at this fair, and nearly got beaten up by some toughs until you stepped in. I mean, you got your face knocked in, but it were very...romantic of you.”

Thomas chuckled; “Bloody hell, I am soft for you, aren’t I?”

“You were,” Jimmy said, suddenly very aware that this version of Thomas might never feel the same.

“Jimmy,” he said, his hand finding the footman’s, “I am.”

Jimmy leaned in and kissed Thomas - properly this time, right on his beautiful red lips. Thomas kissed him back, one hand coming up to tangle in Jimmy’s hair, and they slowly slid down together in the grass.

“I might not remember the details, but I know in my heart how I feel about you,” Thomas said.

“Thanks goodness,” Jimmy said. He gently ran a hand through Thomas’s hair, avoiding the still-bandaged wound, and kissed him again.  
  


As the week went on the tension between Thomas and Jimmy increased until Jimmy couldn’t look at the under-butler without shivering in anticipation of the next time they could be alone and he could lay his hands and lips all over the him. It was strange, but Thomas’s amnesia had given Jimmy a sort of freedom - he felt like a man living with no consequences.

Which, of course, wasn’t true. One day Thomas would remember and then, well, who knew? Jimmy had to hope either the old or new Thomas loved him enough that it wouldn’t matter.

He couldn’t change the past but he could work on the present. So Jimmy hatched a plan - a plan to properly woo Thomas. He got up extra early and snuck out to the village alone - Thomas still had a day left before he had to return to work and he’d decided to have one last lie-in. Jimmy bought cake and pastries from the baker, chocolate and oranges from the grocer and a bottle of cheap-ish wine from the off-license.

Loaded down with bags he paused at the window of the gentleman’s tailors - they had a new display in the window with fashionable hats and pocket squares. Jimmy was ogling a hat he’d never be able to afford when something caught his eyes - a neat pair of silver and onyx cufflinks. They were very smart and much nicer than any Jimmy owned, but he knew someone who’d appreciate them even more - Thomas. He remembered Thomas had once told him that his father owned a similar pair that he’d loved and always wanted, and he’d been promised them when he was taken on as his father’s apprentice in their clock shop. Except that had never happened; Thomas had been sent away to service instead, once his true nature had been revealed.

Impulsively Jimmy went inside and purchased the links, which took every penny he had on him and a fair deal of haggling. He popped the little velveteen box into his jacket pocket and headed back to the Abbey.

Jimmy managed to slip in whilst everyone was busy and smuggle his purchases into his room. Then he carried on with his day, the cufflink box in his pocket a reminder of his plan.

That evening Jimmy excused himself from cards early, changed into his pyjamas and waited until Thomas went to soak in the bathtub, before taking the lot over to Thomas’s bedroom. He set up the food and wine on Thomas’s nightstand, lit several candles, and made himself comfortable on Thomas’s bed.

“What’s this then?” Thomas said on his return. Jimmy made sure to commit the details of the way Thomas looked to memory: his checked dressing gown, slightly worn from use; the brown and yellow of a fading bruise on his forehead; the way his hair fell over his brow, free from pomade and soft from the bath. He was _stunning_.

 _I love you_ , Jimmy thought with sudden clarity. And, to his surprise, he didn’t panic but rather felt more at peace with himself then he ever had.

“This is...me wooing you,” Jimmy replied.

Thomas’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “I don’t think you’re supposed to announce it.”

“Ah well, I’ve never wooed anyone before. And I’m hoping I won’t need to woo anyone else after.”

Thomas smiled at that; “Soppy.”

And Jimmy replied; “Only for you.” They gazed at each other for a moment until Jimmy added; “Come and sit by me will you?”

Thomas squeezed in next to Jimmy, his hand finding the footman’s knee.

“Drink Sir?” Jimmy offered Thomas the wine - he’d plain forgotten to bring glasses. Thomas didn’t seem to care, and tipped his head back to take a long drink from the bottle. Jimmy was mesmerised by the exposed stretch of Thomas’s neck and how his Adam’s apple bobbed.

When Thomas handed the bottle back Jimmy followed suit - he could feel Thomas’s eyes on him so made sure to lick his bottom lip lasciviously.

They ate their fill of the treats Jimmy had purchased - Thomas was particularly wowed by the oranges and worried how much Jimmy had spent.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jimmy replied, his cheeks warm from the wine. “You’re worth it,” he added, just to watch Thomas blush at his words. There was something so gratifying about making the usually straight-faced under-butler crack his typically icy demeanour. “Oh,” Jimmy said, rummaging in his pocket for the cufflinks, “I have one more thing - a gift.” And he plopped the little velveteen box into Thomas’s hand.

“For me?” Thomas asked. He opened the box and stared at the contents for such a long time that Jimmy thought he’d made a mistake. When Thomas finally looked up his eyes were shining, his face full of emotion.

“I hope you like them,” Jimmy said.

“Jimmy,” Thomas reached out and tenderly cupped his cheek. “It’s the most wonderful gift I’ve ever received; doubly so seeing as it’s from you.”

Jimmy melted into Thomas’s touch - he wasn’t sure who made the first move but suddenly they were pressed up against each other, kissing frantically, Jimmy on Thomas’s lap. Thomas unbuttoned Jimmy’s shirt and slipped it over his shoulders - Jimmy’s skin came up in goosebumps wherever he was touched and he was desperate for more contact. He untied Thomas’s dressing gown and was delighted to find the under-butler was nude beneath it.

“Naughty,” Jimmy breathed, his fingers gliding down Thomas’s body until they reached his growing erection.

“I’ve dreamed of doing this,” Thomas said, his lips working some sort of black magic against Jimmy’s neck.

“I’m the stuff of dreams,” Jimmy smirked. Then; “I’ve dreamed of it too.”

“We’ve never done this before?”

Jimmy shook his head. “Taking it slow.”

Thomas pulled back and looked Jimmy in the eye. “Are you sure you want this?”

Jimmy smiled and said; “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

After, when they were spent and boneless, Jimmy lay in Thomas’s arms as the under-butler drifted closer and closer to sleep. By all rights he should’ve been happy - over the moon even - but he couldn’t shake the guilt, the feeling that he’d tricked Thomas into bed with him. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time but Jimmy knew he’d get no rest until he owned up to the whole mess.

He took a moment to watch Thomas dozing, his chest rising and falling softly. He kissed the under-butler’s cheek and breathed in the scent of him, just in case everything went to shite.

“Thomas, I have to tell you something,” Jimmy said. “Because it’s killin’ me and I’m - I’m scared to tell you. I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose _you_. Promise you won’t hate me?”

Thomas cracked one eye open; “I could never.”

“I may...I might have exaggerated our relationship a little,” Jimmy felt Thomas’s body go tense.

“Oh?”

Jimmy nodded. “You see, we were - are - close. Very. Best mates. But,” he paused, readying himself for the fallout, “we weren’t actually...sweethearts. I lied.”

Silence.

Jimmy closed his eyes and said; “Please say something.”

“Why did you lie?” Thomas asked.

“Because I ruined it the first time around and I thought I could have another chance,” Jimmy said, his eyes still closed. He couldn’t look at Thomas as he laid himself so bare. “Because I thought you’d fall for me and I’d tell you how I felt and then you’d get your memory back and it would all be fine and dandy. I didn’t mean for it to go so far. And what if you never remember? I couldn’t lie to you forever.”

“Jimmy,” Thomas said - the footman dared a look at Thomas face. He was smiling.

“You’re not angry?”

“No,” Thomas said, “because, well, it would be a _bit_ hypocritical of me.”

Jimmy blinked. “What d’ya mean?”

“Jimmy, my memory came back about a week ago.”

Jimmy jumped up, outraged. “What?!”

Thomas propped himself up in bed, smirking. “It was when we were sitting in my room, talking, after I’d come back from the hospital. You kissed me goodnight and it all just suddenly came back to me - everything that had happened between us.”

“And you didn’t think to _mention it_?” Jimmy‘s usually deep voice went up an entire octave.

“I was going to, but,” his smirk disappeared, “I was afraid of losing this. Of losing you. And we might never have, y’know, gone to bed together tonight if I had. So I can’t be too sorry for it.”

They stared at each other for a moment then Jimmy said; “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

“We seem so sure of ourselves, but we’re not so sure underneath, are we?” Thomas finished.

Jimmy grinned; “Well, I love you.”

“If you do you’re on your own.”

Jimmy climbed back into bed, his arms slipping easily around Thomas. “I do,” the footman said, “love you. So don’t you go forgettin’ it. _Again_.”

“As if I could.”


End file.
